


This Side of Paradise

by morganwastaken



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, Internal Conflict, Love, Love Confessions, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, POV Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Pining, Romance, Secret Crush, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, dreamnotfound, dreamwastaken - Freeform, georgenotfound - Freeform, sapnap - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganwastaken/pseuds/morganwastaken
Summary: "Don't set my emotions on fire."There it was. A sudden rush of air escaped from Dream’s lungs, nerves laced with something akin to a fervent blaze. George pressed a hand to his neck, feeling his racing pulse."Let them burn."In which dream struggles with love and lust for the man he calls his best friend. In midst of this, he discovers a song which captivates his emotions. Or heatwaves the fanfic, but it’s ‘This Side of Paradise’ by Coyote Theory.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 33
Kudos: 192





	1. Sunflowers

**Author's Note:**

> heavily inspired by the fic heatwaves (tbhyourelame) - i wanted to make a similar dnf fic for my fav song which fit them perfectly! it changes course at the end so it's not as similar - hope you enjoy! for a heads up, there will be nsfw themes in later chapters. also, stream ‘this side of paradise’ by coyote theory :)

George’s stream stretched across one of Dreams monitors, the bright light illuminating his darkened room. George’s mouth lifted up at the corners when Sapnap said something, though Dream didn’t catch it. George tilted his head back, chuckling.

An unfamiliar warmth swelled in Dream’s chest, spreading through his body. An emotion he refused to acknowledge, to let himself explore. It had been happening more frequently. These unfamiliar feelings constantly surfaced and he couldn’t decipher their cause.

“Dream? You still on?” Sapnap’s voice cut through Dream’s thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah,” he answers dismissively. The crafting table screen popped up on his other monitor and Dream crafted a bow and arrow, but it didn’t work.

“Oh my god, I tried making a bow and arrow with cobblestone,” Dream said.

“That’s the dumbest thing you've ever done,” George said, laughing lightly.

“Well no, since I’ve done you,” he jokingly replied, attempting to be nonchalant. But in reality, his heart was drumming wildly in his ribcage and his face flushed warm. George spluttered and Sapnap chuckled.

“Ooh, someone’s blushing,” Sapnap teased.

“Shut up, Sapnap.”

They’re working on a part of the SMP server while Dream watched, throwing in random bits of commentary.

“Dream, give it back,” George demanded as Dream picked up the wood he just chopped down. A different type of desire– hunger, even, burned in Dream’s chest. He wanted to see how hard he could push him.

“Only if you beg for it.”

“I- No,” George said firmly. “Why should I beg for something that’s mine?”

“Because you need it, and it’s mine now.”

“You’re so annoying. I’m not playing your little game.”

“It’s not a game! It’s just a request.”

“Just beg for it, George,” Sapnap butted in. “Oh daddy Dream, please give it back! Please, daddy!” Sapnap whined in a high pitched voice. He really had no filter today.

George groaned. “Oh my god. Now you’re just making this weird.” A breath of frustration escaped George’s lips. “Can I have the wood back?”

An abrupt noise told Dream that Sapnap had left the call. Now it was just him and George.

“You’re gonna have to beg a little harder than that.”

George rolled his eyes. “What will you do if I don’t?”

“Maybe you’ll need to be taught a lesson.”

The same warmth Dream felt returned, stronger and in a lower area.

“What kind of lesson?” George asked innocently. Dream thought of many things he could say, but George was live.

 _Why don’t you deafen and I’ll tell you?_ Dream texted. Pink bloomed across George’s face as he read it.

“Dream, I beg you, please give me the wood back.”

Dream’s pulse quickened at George’s words, beating in his throat. He dropped the stack of wood and George sighed with relief.

“Thank you.”

“Anyways, I think I might log off for tonight,” Dream announced.

“Oh, why?” George asked.

“Feeling a little tired.”

“Okay, night Dream,” Sapnap said.

“Goodnight,” George added.

“Bye guys,” Dream said before leaving the call.

Once he lay in bed, Dream stared the ceiling for what felt like hours, eyes wide open. His mind was racing with thoughts, oblivious to his desire to block them out.

“Dream, I beg you,” George’s flustered voice swam through his mind. The thought of him made his whole body tingle. He relished the power he had in that moment. _George does what I say so easily. I wonder what else I could make him do._ A flash, barely lasting for a second, of an image appeared in Dream’s vision.

George kneeling between his thighs.

Burning shame and desire flooded his face. He kicked his covers off and strode to the bathroom, leaning over the sink. His breathing was heavy. He cupped his hands under the tap, focusing on the cool water pooling in his palms. He grasped at anything around him that would keep his feelings at bay.

 _He’s your best friend_ , he thought while splashing his face. He met his eyes in the mirror, a steely glare fixed on his face. All these messy thoughts about him are probably from being around him too much. Too many streams and calls.

Satisfied with his reasoning, he dried his face and went to bed.

Dream was walking through a sunflower field. He tilted his head to the side and saw George walking beside him. His breath quickened as his eyes roamed over his cheekbones, his jaw, his eyes, his mouth. How many times had he wished for George to be here, like this?

George is here, next to me. He's in silent awe; seeing George this close to him caused his brain to freeze. Happiness rose within him, a grin threatening to break out on his face.

"What are you looking at, Clay?" George's voice lifted up in amusement, mouth forming a smirk. Dream blushed, looking down.

They were holding hands.

George's palm was smooth, fingers slim and somewhat feminine. His hand fit perfectly in his, as if they were made for Dream to hold. It was exactly what he'd assume George's hands would be like. Not that he thought about his hands that much, of course.

His hand was heavy in his, anchoring him to the ground. If he wasn't holding his hand he feared that he would float away.

They arrived in a clearing. A plaid picnic blanket was laid out, with a wicker basket on top. Sunflowers surrounded them, the golden yellow basking in the dusk. The sun dipped below the horizon, streaking a trace of colours across the darkening sky,.

George tugged Dream towards the blanket, pushing aside the basket. He lay down on his back, patting the empty space next to him. Dream followed suit. George's side was pressed against him, warm and real.

Dream turned his head to see George staring blissfully at the sky above. He decided he would rather be staring at him. Dream could count every eyelash on George's face. He noticed his slightly parted mouth, his hair blowing in the light breeze.

"Look, you can see Orion's belt." George stared up at the stars.

"All I'm seeing is you," Dream said softly.

George blushed, smiling shyly. Instinctively, Dream reached out, delicately brushing George's lips with his thumb. Sparks bloomed underneath his touch. His fingertips glided over his cheekbone, resting at his jaw. He leaned closer. Every part of him was on fire. George's eyelids fluttered, lightly cupping Dream's hand. Their lips met, delicately at first. It felt tender.

"Again," George murmured.


	2. Bad Ideas

_The universe is fucking with me._

Dream told himself not to think about it any harder than that. It was definitely one of those weird, one off dreams. 

The ghost of George's skin made his fingertips pulse. It had felt so right. He shook his head. It was just a dream, after all. It didn't matter. What mattered was real life. 

He got a message from Sapnap telling him to come online. He was grateful for the distraction. His mouse hovered over the join button. 

It was dangerous. Dangerous to let himself join the call and hear George's voice again when his emotions from last night were still raw. But Dream was always one to take risks.

He clicked join.

"Hello, Dream," George said. He hated and loved the way George's voice made him feel; like a ray of sunshine breaking through a storm. 

"Hi," he replied. _This is a bad idea. A very bad idea._ His heart raced. 

Sapnap and George carried on their conversation.

“Wow, Dream’s oddly quiet today,” George remarked. His heart skipped a beat when George said his name, but he tried to ignore it.

“Long night,” Dream said simply. 

“He just couldn’t take you off his mind, George,” Sapnap said jokingly. 

Oh, how you are absolutely right for once. The irony that one of Sapnap’s weird comments were actually true was almost enough to make Dream laugh.

“No comeback? Dream? Dream?” George asked.

“Hey, sorry, mic issues,” Dream said quickly, coming out of his stupor with a lie. He logged onto the server.

“Oh. Come and check out L'manberg with me.”

They found Karl, Quackity and Sapnap building something out of cobblestone on the edge of a cliff. Karl walked up to George, who was admiring the view on a ledge, and hit him off. He died. 

“I hate you so much, Karl.”

Karl giggled in response. George made the trip back to his stuff. He shrieked when he saw a huge group of skeletons and spiders approaching.

“Dream, help me!” He cried. “Help! Please! I’m on three hearts!”

“Fine, I’m coming,” Dream said, landing in water next to George and slaughtering the mob. 

“Thank you!” George collected his stuff. 

“Oh daddy Dream! You’re such a big, strong man, please protect me forever,” Sapnap cooed in a squeaky voice, adding kissing noises.

“Just go ahead and call him submissive, Sapnap,” Dream said. Everyone roared with laughter. 

"I heard George is planning something naughty with Karl and Quackity," Sapnap told him.

"Oh yeah? Does George need to be punished?" 

"I think he does," Sapnap agreed. "Let's do it." Sapnap brandished his diamond sword and hit George.

Dream's restraint was rapidly crumbling. He fought to keep the seriousness out of his tone.

"We'll get you so bad you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

There was a silence that seemed to last for hours. Dream's cheeks burned. There's no way they could've missed his earnest tone, the way his voice dipped low. He messed it up this time; didn't try hard enough to disguise his emotions. 

Or maybe, some part of him was growing tired of trying to mask his desire with humour. But what was he hoping to accomplish by all the bantering? That one day George would realise that there was something hidden beneath all the layers of jokes? 

What was he even thinking about? There was nothing he was hiding. The weird, mixed up feelings from his dream were still stirring, messing with his thoughts.

When Sapnap roared with laughter, Dream almost sighed with relief. Good. No one picked up on it. 

"Oh my god," George said. "Stay away from me, Sapnap! You too, Dream."

They chased George for a bit, yelling taunts. Soon everyone got distracted.

"Look, you can see a rare mob over here!' George shouted.

All I'm seeing is you.

Dream struggled to drag his mind away from last night's dream. Drag his mind away from how he snuggled with George and how well he fit in his arms. His entire body flushed with heat. 

They messed around for a couple of hours before everyone had to log off. Slipping off his headset, he let out a loud exhale. He felt deflated. Empty. He searched for a reason why and came up with nothing.

**George replied to your tweet.**

His heart soared, realisation crashing down on him shortly after. Music provided a distraction, a way out from his conflicting emotions. He clicked play on a Spotify playlist that included Line Without A Hook and closed his eyes, lying down on his bed. The song began with the bass and the drums and the guitar, flowing into him. Soon the song faded away, a new song taking its place.

_Ask me why my heart's inside my throat_

Dream's heart rate picked up, eyes snapping open. He thought of his throat tightening before he uttered his teasing remark.

_I've never been in love, I've been alone_   
_Feel like I've been living life asleep_

A dull ache began to spread in his chest. He had been in a daze since last night, his mind absorbed in a fog. 

_Love so strong it makes me feel so weak_

The lyrics evoked the bundle of emotions he had been feeling. How his self-control crumbled every time he heard George.

Love. Was he in love?

_Our fingers dancing when they meet_   
_You seem so lonely_

He thought of their clasped hands, fingers comfortably intertwined as they walked through the sunflower field. How wanted and loved he had felt. Goosebumps prickled his arms. _George doesn't have to be lonely anymore. Not when I’m here. If only he could see that._

The singer sang with a feverish intensity, desperate to be heard. The drums and the guitar and the passion. Dream was hearing it, all of it. 

It all became too much, to lie here with his emotions gone rampant. He had to do something, anything. The need to see George, to feel the closeness he did last night, became unbearable. As if knowing Dream was thinking about him, George messaged him. 

_You were quiet on stream today,_ George texted. _What’s up?_

Dream never held back information from him and neither did George, but what was he supposed to tell him? That he couldn’t stop thinking about him?

 _Felt restless,_ Dream replied, hoping George wouldn’t ask any further.

_Something on your mind?_

_Maybe I’m just overtired._

_Wanna call?_

They often did post-stream calls, talking about everything for hours. It was why Dream was happy whenever George's stream ended– because he knew he’d get him all to himself afterwards. He accepted his call within moments of George ringing him. 

“You also seemed off today. Is it because of the jokes? If we ever go too far, just tell us.”

“It’s not that,” George said after a while.

“Then what?” Dream’s chest hitched.

“It’s just– can’t tell when you’re joking anymore.”

Dream should've known George would pick up on his subtle tells.

“Maybe because I haven’t been joking,” he confessed, immediately wishing he could shove the words back into his mouth.

“See? Just now. I couldn’t tell.”

Dream was caught between teasing him and holding back. He realised this could be an excuse, a way to express his bottled thoughts without sounding serious. 

“Has anyone ever told you that your accent is cute?”

“Are you really joking right now?” George sounded exasperated.

_I should say yes, right? It’s the best thing to do._

“No.” His voice was faint. He bit his tongue, cursing himself. The silence settled. 

“Is it normal for friends to talk to each other like this?” George’s voice was soft. 

Dream was a fraud. Friends. He had yet to realise that he no longer thought of George that way. No matter how many signs there were. But if George saw it that way, then it would be like that.

“I don’t know. But I guess it could be,” Dream said quietly. “Our new normal.”

“Our new normal,” George repeated. “I’m okay with that.”


	3. Ghosted

Dream tried to keep his distance from George, interacting less on social media and staying quiet during calls. After their chat, George believed that Dream’s recent remarks meant nothing, and carried on as normal.

Dream gave himself three days to get over his stupid, meaningless feelings and get back to the light-hearted banter he always did with ease. His feelings would only ruin his friendship with George, and that was the last thing he wanted. If he had to put up with his heart beating faster every time George said his name for the rest of his life, so be it.

But the more he tried to pull away, the more George tried to reel him back in.

_ Is everything ok? Noticed you’ve been kinda off lately, _ George texted. Dream threw his phone onto his bed and it disappeared beneath his covers. He cleaned his entire house, fed Patches, did his laundry, ran the dishwasher, and came back to the text glaring at him, accompanied with two missed calls from George, and one from Sapnap. 

Dream didn't message or call anyone for three days.

  
  


On the third day, he let himself scroll through the notifications on his phone. Sapnap and George demanded information, the number of texts tapering off as the days wore on. He texted a half-assed apology to Sapnap, claiming that he’d been sick and decided to stay off social media, which was partly the truth. He felt bad for shutting out his closest friend but Dream wasn’t ready to untangle his mess of emotions with Sapnap just yet. He didn’t even want to make sense of them by himself. 

There was another pressing matter at hand; George. He knew he couldn’t ignore him forever. He pressed ‘call back’ and listened to the dial tone, his hands growing warm as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” George said. His voice was a soothing breeze skimming past Dream’s face, knocking the breath out of him. His hands shook slightly. He thought he would have better control of his emotions after coming to terms with them, but it turns out he was the same as ever.

“Hi,” Dream said, trying to keep the sudden nervousness out of his voice.

"Care to explain why you disappeared for three days?" George's tone was icy.

"I’ve been sick and been staying off social media."

"Oh. You couldn't at least send me a quick text?"

Dream didn’t have an excuse for that. The call lapsed into silence. 

“I worry about you, you know,” The brunette added. Dream huffed quietly, caught between apologising or letting George talk. Once again, his actions had hurt others more than helped. 

"I feel like something's changed with us," George professed quietly. Dream swallowed, his stomach sinking. Regret tugged at him insistently. He’d been selfish, to shut his friends out and not even give so much as a word. 

"H-How so?"

"First we have a talk, and I think that clears stuff up between us, but then you vanish on me for three days. The Dream I know wouldn’t do something like that." 

The sentence was a stab to Dream's heart. A ‘sorry’ would be meaningless. His plan to keep things neutral and peaceful, without letting his composure slip, had backfired. It was never his plan to hurt George. He really wasn’t protecting anyone but himself, but Dream promised that it would be worth it in the long run; for their friendship. 

"Is there...something else going on?” George ventured. 

Dream wished he could tell the truth about his feelings. He told himself to remember what would happen if he did. Having George as a friend was better than not having him at all.

“Clay?” George prompted gently. Hearing his own name made his heart stop. Heat trickled down his spine.

“Do you not trust me?” George spoke softly.  _ Of course, George thought that he was at fault when he most definitely was not. _

“No. No.” Dream’s voice came out firmer than he meant. He cleared his throat, wondering whether or not he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. Was it worth leaping into a void, with a chance there could be something big? Or was it safer to stay on the ledge, safe and secure, never finding out what could've been?

The words of confession were there, crawling up his throat. Until they died on the tip of his tongue. 

"I'm sorry." He forced the sentence out, squeezing his eyes shut. He had chosen the ledge.

"Okay." The older boy’s voice bore no anger or frustration. Dream thought anything would be better than the deflated way George sounded. George refused to urge him into speaking for the first time. It felt like he had given up. 

“Bye, I guess.” The line went dead. Dream felt like something small within him died too.

_ It'll only take a few days for this to blow over. Everything will go back to normal. You made the right call.  _

_ Oh yeah? _ He answered back to his thoughts. _ Then why does it feel so horribly wrong? _

He ached. Music was a much-needed distraction from his feelings, so he played his song,  _ their  _ song _ ,  _ volume turned all the way up.

  
He stared, unblinking, at the ceiling, the lyrics fighting for their attention against the pit of regret laying in his stomach. The lyrics won, eventually. He absorbed the beat of the drums in his skin, let the guitar strings reverberate through his bones. His unblinking eyes bore holes into the ceiling as the song looped. His hands rested on his stomach, aware of each rise and fall. 

_ I'll be the only dream you seek _

_ So if you're lonely, no need to show me _

_ If you're lonely, come be lonely with me _

_ If only you could let me in, George. _


	4. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW WARNING!

Dream had sworn to himself; he couldn't let himself feel anything for George. Not anymore. He had chosen his path, praying it was the right one; pushing his best friend away instead of letting him in. And now he had to stick with it. He shoved his emotions away, into a corner of his mind. He locked it firmly, tossing away the key. He was doing this for their friendship. For George. 

And maybe, he was just scared of it. Of all of it.

Even if Dream’s mind complied, his heart refused. It ached, the dull pain spreading through his chest. He dismissed it, believed it was caused by his guilt. He edited a video, checked his channel analytics, and got distracted by the recommended videos. A thumbnail caught his eye. 

George was grinning, tilting his chin up to his camera, Adam's apple visible. 

Dream's heart ached a little harder. He couldn't escape him. Not in real life, not online, not in his dreams. He shut down his computer and slept, hoping his dreams wouldn't catch him.

Days passed in a daze. Day and night blended into one, filled with soundless dreams and endless thoughts. Every day he ate, he worked, and he slept; a constant cycle. He didn’t want to respond to anyone, not even his family. One lyric bounced in his brain. _Feel like I've been living life asleep._

Being awake was more painful than being asleep. He preferred the dark nights in his room, the one time his brain and heart would ease the pain. Bottling all these feelings, without having anyone to direct them to, was harder than he thought; much easier said than done. _How am I supposed to live like this, every day? Will this ever fade?_

He awoke one midnight, heart hurting, a tent in his pants. He swallowed thickly.

He missed George. A little too much.

The lock was dangerously close to breaking. His plan was backfiring. He pressed a cool palm to his warm neck, desire settling low in his stomach.

His heart wanted George. His hormones hummed in agreement.

Dream let himself unlock his emotions, slowly. Just this once. Something told him it would be difficult sticking to his promise. 

_Dream imagined George below him, his hand sliding down his abdomen, past the hem of his shorts, into his boxers. George's breath fell rapidly, tickling Dream's neck._

His own hand made his way to his hard cock, stroking it lightly.

_He palmed George's dick, eliciting small whimpers from him. “You’re already so hard for me,” he said, voice low. The brunette groaned softly. His other hand found George's throat and applied pressure, squeezing lightly._

He squeezed his cock, pumping faster.

_George let out a moan, choked and wet. "D-Dream," he panted out, breathless. His eyes fluttered closed, mouth parted slightly. Dream stroked George faster, choking him a little harder. He swiped his thumb along his leaking tip, slow and teasing._

Dream used his other hand to circle his tip with his thumb, teasing himself, the other wrapped around the shaft. 

_The older boy began to tremble, thrusting his hips to meet Dream's hand. His strangled moans and whimpers spilled from his lips as Dream pumped his length. Dream kept his hand wrapped around George's throat, feeling his Adam's apple throb._

Dream's other hand shifted from his tip to the base of his cock, playing with his balls as he stroked his length.

_"Come for me," Dream whispered into George’s ear. George gave a choked cry, quivering beneath Dream. George’s cock twitched in his hand and he came, eyes shut tightly. His back arched as he bit his lip harshly. Dream released the pressure on his neck and pumped him slowly._

Dream came too with a harsh gasp, shaking at the intensity of pleasure. He threw his head back, stroking harder.

_"Dream!" George moaned, trembling as the last spurts of cum splattered on his chest._

His orgasm faded.

Fuck, he was in deep. He knew he couldn’t fall asleep; not after that. 

He went to the bathroom to clean himself up before returning to his room. He wanted to talk to George. Another one of his bad ideas. But a text wouldn’t hurt… right? He texts him one word: _H_ _i_. After an hour, George didn’t respond. How could Dream blame him? Why would he expect a text back? After he pushed him away, George had the right to react this way. But it still hurt. Even when it was his fault he was in this mess in the first place. 

His phone pinged. 

George texted back. It was also one word. _H_ _i_. 

_How are you?_ Dream texted back immediately, not wanting to lose him.

_Wishing my friend would tell me what’s going on._

_Don’t worry. I promise there’s nothing._

_That’s the problem. I am worrying._

_Then don’t._

A pause. Dream texted again.

_Why don’t you tell me how you are instead?_

_That’s not fair._

George stopped typing, then started up again.

_But fine._

The text bubble fades in and out.

_At least one of us has to be honest._

_Low blow, George._

It took a while for George to respond.

_I’ve been thinking about you. About us._


	5. Aflame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of George's POV in this, hope it wasn't too confusing!

_ Call me,  _ Dream texted urgently. He picked up as soon as George rang. 

“Explain?” Dream asked immediately. He fought to keep the insistent tone out of his voice.

George huffed. “Why should I?”

Dream hesitated, his mouth opening to respond. No sound came out at first, but soon he found his words.

“Because,” he said, the words spilling out of his mouth. “I’ll tell you what I meant to tell you yesterday.”

He chewed his lip. Was he really ready? The answer was no. But he also knew he couldn’t live his life, pretending everything was the same with George, without telling him. He felt that George had the right to know, even if their friendship crumbled. He couldn’t keep this all to himself anymore. It was eating him alive, and soon there would be nothing left of him but dregs of desire. 

He hoped George felt the same way. He needed him to.

“Okay.” George’s voice trembled slightly. “I’ve been thinking… About the things you’ve been saying. And I know that they’re just jokes, and everyone seems to think that way. Except me. Maybe I’m reading too much into this,” George said, growing flustered.

“No, no,” Dream said evenly. “Keep going.”

“Well, it’s just– When you say these things, you use that voice.”

“What voice?” His tone softened.

“The one you use when it’s only me and you, on-call. Alone.” George’s voice was barely audible as he said, “For me to hear.”

“I sound different?” He pressed his phone closer to his ear in anticipation.

“You do. But only for me,” George said. Dream’s heart thrummed faster in his chest.

“Only ever for you, George.”

George’s breath rose and fell unevenly through the phone.

“You only ever use that voice when you mean something, you know,” he said awkwardly. Heat flamed in Dream’s face.  _ George knows that every joke I’ve said had truth behind it. _ He wasn’t good enough at hiding it. To everyone else, he was, but not to the one who really mattered.  
  


“But you know, I don’t really mind it,” George said, the sentence coming out in one long breath. Dream gave a low chuckle.

“Oh? You don’t?” 

“Dream,” George whined, dragging out his name.

“So you’re saying you like it when I say those things?”   
  


“I never said that,” George grumbled, fumbling with his words. He exhaled loudly. “Enough from me. It’s your turn.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay. If I tell you,” he said slowly. “You promise that you won’t be weird about it.”

“I promise,” George said sincerely. He fell silent as Dream began to speak, parting his mouth. 

“You’re…the first person who’s made me feel alive in a long, long time.”

With the confession, something broke inside of him like a dam bursting open. It spilled a stream of emotions; happiness, relief, warmth. His whole body tingled. On the other end of the line, George stifled his sharp inhale. 

Another emotion joined the flood. Fear. Dream’s nerves grew wild beneath his skin, his throat closing up. What if this changes everything? 

_ Let it, _ one part of him said. 

“It’s like I’m feeling all my emotions for the first time.”

George’s voice was barely a whisper. “I feel like that when I’m around you, too.” 

Dream shut his eyes, sliding down the wall and onto the floor. He wasn’t alone with his feelings anymore. The thought liberated him. 

“Really?’ He brought his knees to his chest.

“Really.”

“Describe it to me,” Dream said.

“It’s like…” George stammered, struggling to find the right words. “Pinpricks of warmth erupting in your chest. The sun streaming in your face. Getting home after a long day.”

A small, contented smile appeared on Dream’s face, lifting the ends of his mouth.

“I make you feel like that?”

“Everyday.” 

George scoffed quietly and added, “You’re never going to let me forget this.”

Dream flushed with pride. After all the worrying, all the restless nights, all for nothing. George felt the same way as him. He exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

"Does it scare you like it scares me?" Dream was whispering now. He chewed on his lip anxiously. 

"Everyday," George repeated.

Tendrils of desire weaved within Dream, curling in the pit of his stomach. They spread to his chest, to his neck, down his arms. It trickled with warmth down his back. He shivered, letting himself embrace it for the first time, rather than ignoring it.

"It's happening to you now, isn't it?" George’s sentence came out with a shuddered breath. 

"Yes," Dream exhaled, voice cracking. He could no longer control the pit of want growing in his stomach, getting stronger. "I want to do more than just hear your voice. I want to see you, all of you."

"All of me?" George echoed, breathless. George turned on his phone camera. The first thing Dream noticed was his hair. It ruffled and sticking out as if he had run his hands through it, but it suited him, like everything else. A pink tint spreaded across his cheeks, accentuating his warm brown eyes. His lips were flushed, bottom lip plump from being tugged on. Dream's heart melted. 

"You're beautiful." 

"I'm not." George turned his head away from his camera, obviously flustered. The sharp curve of his jawline snagged Dream’s attention, his eyes drawn to his cheekbones. His side profile left him breathless. Dream wanted to trace a finger along George’s features, caress the side of his face with his palm. His fingertips tingled at the thought.

"Stop trying to deny it. You are beautiful."

"Shut up." George's ears turned red as he found the nerve to look back at the camera again.

"What, you don't think so?" Dream challenged. George shook his head slightly. 

"What will it take to prove it to you how beautiful you are?"

"Tell me what makes you believe that."

It didn't take Dream long to come up with a million reasons. "The way your laugh lights up your entire face. The way your eyes soften when you smile. How humble and kind you are to everyone."

His voice dropped deeper. "And I'm sure there are much hotter things under all those layers."

"Stop." George tugged on his hoodie collar, averting his eyes from the screen once more.

"You're so cute when you're embarrassed."

"Really, enough."

“I wish I was sitting next to you, seeing how flustered you look right now.”

“Shut up.”

"You don't like my compliments?"

"I do," George muttered, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. 

"Then why?" He is greeted with silence. Then he gets it.

"Are you liking it....a bit too much?"

George nodded. He pulled the collar of his hoodie up towards his face, trying to hide the deepening tint of pink across his cheeks. It was getting harder to breathe. George’s heart was hammering in his chest. 

There was a pit of fire in his stomach and Dream's voice did nothing but fuel it. One more push, and George was bound to burn. A small part wouldn’t mind if he did; craved it, even. 

_ Tell me more,  _ George thought.  _ Tell me the things I can’t even believe about myself.  _

"Would you like it if I told you I wanted you?"

George's eyes drifted closed, chills breaking out on his skin. The fire dove lower, dipping in between his thighs. He had to end this quickly, before he lost his shred of self-control to the flames. He fumbled with his phone, fingers pressing the camera button to switch it off. Dream's heart threatened to deflate, already missing his face.

"Don't do this," George stuttered, gripping his phone tighter against his ear. 

Dream was glowing, burning bright. He was drinking George’s words in, desperate for more. 

"Do what? Tell the truth?" His voice took on a gentle edge. Dream was seeking the very truth that what he was saying mattered, and it was real, and it was affecting George in ways he could only begin to understand.

George’s breaths were falling much shorter, every shaky inhale a chore. He peeled his hoodie away from his skin, temperature climbing. Heat was consuming him. 

"Don't set my emotions on fire." 

There it was. A sudden rush of air escaped from Dream’s lungs, nerves laced with something akin to a fervent blaze. George pressed a hand to his neck, feeling his racing pulse.

"Let them burn."


	6. Nimrod November

_I'll be yours if you'll be mine_

The line set his nerves on fire. Dream’s desire was intensifying, powered by the knowledge that George felt the same as him. It was killing him, having all this want and need but not being able to do anything about it.

_'Cause I'm lonely, I'm so lonely_

He already missed George’s voice. The thought of him turning his camera on just for him– just so he could see him– made his desire peak.

_If you hold me, I'll be your only_

He wanted to feel George’s body, skin to skin, pressed up against him. He wanted nothing more than for George to call him his own, for Dream to mark the soft skin on his neck. He was falling, and he was aware of every fleeting second. What was stopping him, really, from flying all the way to the UK? He felt giddy at the thought.

_I miss you,_ he texted, then regretted it slightly, because he didn’t want to come off as needy. But it was too late.

_We were talking all through last night, idiot,_ George texted back. Dream grinned, reliving the moment of George’s hot breath on the other end, words of confession hanging in the air.

_But yeah, I guess I miss you too,_ George texted. Love swelled in Dream’s chest. Before he knew it, he was typing the words he hadn’t stopped thinking about since he woke up.

_What do you think about me visiting you?_

The silent moments bore down on him. Waiting for a response was painful.

_I’d like that,_ George texted. _Someday._

The one word slammed into Dream’s chest. What was he thinking, moving this fast? He was rushing into this, blindly guided by his heart instead of his mind. It would be for the best if he didn’t see George in person anytime soon; he was scared of what would happen if his self-control dissolved.

He needed to take a deep breath, a step back, and enjoy these feelings in all its entirety. All the passion and love edged with an unfamiliar fierceness. He had to tread lightly from now on. What he had with George felt delicate, unlike anything he’d ever had with anyone else. 

Waiting was something he was never good at.

Dream’s phone beeped, alerting him that George was live and speedrunning Minecraft. He tuned in from his phone and rang him on Discord. George picked up. 

“Hey, Dream!” George chirped. 

“Hello.”

“Thank you for the moral support as I struggle through my speedrun.” George’s tone was light, the complete opposite from the breathless, low way he had spoken to Dream. He had to remind himself that thousands of people were watching. 

“The iron golem’s over there,” Dream pointed out as George gathered wood and stone. 

“Okay,” George said, making his way over. He hit the golem and ran away, but the golem sent him flying.

“Oh god! No!” George said, towering up quickly. Dream laughed.

“Feeling flustered, are we?”

“Why would I be flustered? I just made a mistake.”

“Because I’m here.”

George scoffed. “You don’t make me flustered, Dream.”

Something about the way George said his name caused Dream’s stomach to flutter.

_After last night, I think I do,_ Dream wanted to say.

user1: WHAT

user2: LAST NIGHT???

user3: WHAT DID HE SAYYYY

“Don’t make stuff up Dream, now the chat is going crazy,” George said, saving him. Dream’s throat was dry. _Did I say that out loud?_ Dream played off the silence with gentle banter.

“I'm not, it's all true," he laughs.

“Guys, Dream’s just being stupid as usual, just ignore him.”

“You’re stupid,” Dream retorted.

“Whatever you say,” George sassed back. 

“You’re so bratty."

George raised an eyebrow in question but chose to remain silent. Dream texted the last sentence on Discord.

_You know what happens to brats, right?_

“I– No, I don’t.” Dream’s eyes were transfixed as George wet his lips. George's chat was confused, picking up the fact that they were being left out with what was going on. Dream typed out another response.

_If I was there, I’d show you._

George’s eyes flitted to the other monitor and quickly back to the screen, masking the fact that he was distracted. He filled the awkward silence with a laugh, but his cheeks were pink. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his hoodie. Dream took pleasure in knowing he made him feel that way. 

“You’re an idiot,” George said after a long pause, moving on from the brat comment.

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” Dream teased as George killed the iron golem.  
  
  
  
After no speedrun successes, George said goodbye to his stream.

“That was such a close call,” George said. It took Dream a moment to realise he was referring to his little slip up at the start of the stream. ‘You’re so lucky I came up with a quick save.”

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” Dream admitted sheepishly, groaning.

“It’s not nimrod November anymore.” He could hear the eye roll in George’s voice. 

“I’ll try to be less of a nimrod next time, okay?”

George scoffed. “And what was that about me being a brat?”

“You _are_ a brat. I can definitely see it,” Dream commented, smirking. The thought of it almost made him hard.

George groaned in frustration, the sound stirring something within Dream. “Ohh, shut up.”

“Do you want to say that again?” It came out harsher than Dream meant to. George sat in stunned silence.

Dream hummed in contempt, taking George’s silence as an answer. “That’s what I thought. Maybe I was wrong. You’re completely submissive,” Dream said, the thought making his breath hitch. 

George said nothing, overcome by a sudden restlessness. He swallowed hard. “W-what’s so bad about that?”

“Nothing. It’s actually kind of hot.” Dream’s voice lowered to a rumble. George was at a loss for words. A smirk snuck onto Dream’s face.

A tiny, warbled voice filtered out from George’s end. Dream dismissed it as an audio glitch, but after a few seconds, George abruptly cleared his throat.

“Uhm, I’ve just got stuff to do. Let’s talk later,” George stammered out. The line went dead.


End file.
